


Dear You

by GomonMikado



Category: therezia.. -Dear Emile-
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-14
Updated: 2014-07-14
Packaged: 2018-02-08 20:24:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,129
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1955040
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GomonMikado/pseuds/GomonMikado
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Leanne lives.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dear You

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lightningwaltz](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lightningwaltz/gifts).



The baby weighed so much that it caused Leanne's thin arms to tremble, although it couldn't have been heavier than the lambs she had cradled at the age of fourteen. Its tiny face was serene in sleep, oblivious to the frightening figure peering down, face intent and blackened with smoke.

It didn't wake up throughout the bumpy walk down to the village. The trail had never seemed so rough or steep to Leanne before, but now she was aware of each step downwards in the way it bounced the child in her arms, and in the way the knee of her descending leg threatened to buckle each time she placed her weight on it.

If I collapse, she thought, I'll drop the baby. I might even fall on it. The thought powered her on to the village, the baby a source of tingling warmth in her arms.

\---

The two houses at the bend where the road emerged from the woods were charred remnants. As Leanne progressed further into the village, she found it strangely levelled and deserted, as if swept away by the hand of God. The houses of her hometown had been replaced with blackened and shortened imposters, rising no further than a single storey, if that. The tower of black smoke behind her that rose from the unseen inferno of the church felt like a sinister look into the village's recent past.

"Extreme heat kills most microbes," Maylee had told her. "It's why we put our equipment through the autoclave before we use it." Her mouth had twisted up into a smile. "Although it's no good as a cure since human bodies can't withstand 121°C either."

The town from a year ago that Leanne had expected to reach never came. Instead she wandered along the cobblestone paths that remained, not sure even of which street she was on, before she stopped for a rest on what had been someone's doorstep.

When she looked down, she found the baby had awakened and was watching her quietly. Leanne hadn't even noticed.

"Hello, you," Leanne tried, and surprised herself with the rasp that came out. She coughed and tried again. "Hey there," she whispered. A buzz sounded underneath her voice from the inhaled smoke of the church, and it wouldn't go any louder. She bounced the baby tentatively in her arms that were stiff with holding it, and attempted to smile. "Heh heh heh."

\---

The first day saw Leanne spending hours to find an intact rain barrel that held water. The strong light of the sun, initially an otherworldly luxury, soon became a bane to her as she stepped from shade to shade and looked anxiously for a source of clean water - not just for herself but for the baby as she became increasingly convinced that its quietitude signalled weakness. How long had it been lying in that meadow? A day? More?

The water she did find lay dark and cool in the barrel, deceptively enticing. Reason told Leanne that drinking water like this was unsafe, but the headache and burning dryness of her mouth had her leaning in and gulping down water as best she could, spluttering as it went up her nose.

Once she swallowed a mouthful, she couldn't stop. Her throat went on working greedily by itself. She stopped only when she was gasping for air and wiped her mouth on the back of her hand. She wasn't full, but she forced herself to bend down and pick up where she had, carefully, carefully, laid the baby and raised it to the rim of the barrel.

Getting the baby to drink was a trial. Leanne was too scared to dip her filthy fingers into the water and dirty it to try and get the baby to lick the droplets off her hand, but she had no receptacle to hold the water either. Sensing her agitation, the baby began to make weak fretful noises that became a background to Leanne's furious thinking. Soaking her dress with water and dripping the water into the baby's mouth presented the same problem as her hands. She only just then became aware again of how ragged and begrimed she actually was. The uncomfortable and itching sensation nagged at her along with the baby's whimpering as her head swirled, confronting the problem in front of her. It was only another puzzle, she told herself. Just think. Just think.

The problem was solved by a solution that had been right in front of her. Leanne unwound the white swaddling cloth from around the baby. Double-folded, it was pristine except for two areas where pollen from the red flowers and Leanne's sooty sleeves had marked it. Leanne folded it, trying to touch it as little as possible, and dipped the clean edges of the cloth into the water. She brought it to where she had lain the baby and held it over the baby's mouth.

Drops of water fell onto the baby's face. The baby blinked and squirmed and Leanne hung it lower and tried brushing the baby's lips with the cloth. She persisted until it licked its lips and opened its mouth.

She spent the next few hours this way, making her back sore as she bent over barrel then baby.

\---

Food presented almost the same difficulty when Leanne went searching for it. No home had survived unharmed and the knowledge was being hammered into Leanne's head that she had no idea how people got food. She didn't know what wild foods could be eaten or what they looked like or how to prepare them, and she had no idea - she shuddered - how to hunt animals.

Her salvation came from a camp of the enemy soldiers that had torched her village. Mother's comrades.

The camp was small; a settlement of tents. Of course their main base had been underneath the church, she thought. Perhaps this was a small one sustaining only envoys or scouts. Although the camp was in disarray, Leanne had felt hopeful at the sight of undestroyed human presence. They might have, she thought, in their haste have left food behind.

This last hope proved fruitful. Rummaging in their tents made her feel irrationally anxious as she poked through belongings. Telling herself it was ridiculous didn't stop her from going outside and fetching a stick to search with. The cuts on her fingers ached in sympathy with her tension.

Inside the quartermaster's tent were stockpiled cans of food. Even before she picked up the first one, Leanne realised that if the soldiers had remembered to take their tools with them in their flight from here, she'd be in serious trouble.

\---

Leanne's first impression of Maylee was power and confidence, although she didn't realise what the feeling was at the time. And it wasn't until years later, in Maylee's laboratory, that she'd shyly asked how Maylee could do that. Maylee had been nonplussed and asked what she'd meant, and Leanne had blurted out that Maylee could do "anything".

"L-like, you can analyse bacteria and come up with a method to create a vaccine, but most people don't even where to begin," Leanne had stammered, bashful and in a hurry to provide clarification.

"Hmmm," the chair had squeaked as Maylee leant back and twiddled the pen she was using between her fingers. Her tone had become thoughtful. "You mean I'm good at what I do?"

"I guess?" Leanne ventured, although really she thought that purview was too narrow.

"I'm a competent scientist and I know where to begin because I've studied microbiology for years. I have a good idea of where to start," Maylee tapped her pen insistently on the papers she had been perusing when Leanne had come up to her. "There'll be things you're competent at too."

"I see," Leanne lied. She knew she had nothing she could consider a 'special skill'.

But Maylee seemed to know what she was thinking. "You take care of the animals, don't you?"

"That's right."

"It's just the same."

Just the same. Leanne couldn't put into words how vastly different she considered her duty of tending the animals and the way Maylee dealt cooly and efficiently with the crisis of an epidemic and everyone around her. She thanked Maylee anyway.

\---

Thinking of Maylee now made Leanne feel regret for all the times she and Maylee had spoken. It had nearly always been Maylee who had sought her out and started talking, and because she had been half-frightened of her, Leanne had never really said much back. It must have looked like a one-sided conversation to Maylee. She wished she had had the courage to say more.

A penknife found in the pocket of a coat left behind by a soldier had opened a tin of canned peaches. Squishy fruit was probably the best thing for the baby. Leanne mashed up the halved peaches with the sharp edge of the tin lid and fed them to the baby with a too-big spoon. The baby mouthed at the squishy mess of peaches and smacked its glossy lips. Leanne coaxed it bit by bit with the same aching patience she had fed it water. The baby made small high-pitched whines and kicked its heels together and murmured unintelligibly as it gazed up at her. Leanne cooed back, her gestures infinitely gentle.

Leanne finished off four tins feeding them both. When it came to time to leave, she looked down at the two items her search of the camp had turned up. The penknife. And a thin book, not quite the width of her hand, providing concise and dry instructions for survival techniques. A requisite manual for soldiers. A good start for Leanne.

I can use these, she thought.

\---

From above, the basin of the valley was gushing with scarlet. The closest fringes of the flood became individual flowers, blooms bobbing in the wind. Leanne looked at the innumerable tiny flower heads until distance blurred them again into an indistinguishable spread of red.

The wind sweeping over the flowers chilled her legs. A good length of her skirt was ripped off to an inch or two above the knees. Hacking with the penknife's tiny blade had been laborious work. The knot of the sling tied behind her neck chafed when she turned her head to look about, but if she was to walk a good distance Leanne knew her arms would thank her later for not having to constantly carry the baby.

For the third time, she touched the baby's cheek gently with her fingers. Not too hot probably. She'd removed the swaddling to wrap it around her own waist just in case. Didn't want to overheat the baby and dehydrate her. The camp hadn't turned up a flask so they'd have to find a river as they walked.

"Hey you," Leanne spoke softly to her. "Hey." The baby looked but she didn't know if it recognised her. Didn't know how much it recognised about its own existence. "I think I'd like to leave this place. I'd like to find more people. I think I'd like to find another town. I don't know if there'll be people left but I'd like to find them if there are. I'd like you to come with me too. I'd like to look after you. I'll even look after you until you can look after yourself, and then you can leave if you want. Hmmm?"

The baby didn't respond vocally and just sucked on its fingers. Leanne hadn't really expected a response. She turned about to face where the road led on. It was wider than any path in the valley although grass was now growing inwards from the edges. Traders, Sacha had said. We get people coming in from the outside world.

Her breath whooshed in and out of her. In out. In out. Okay. She set off walking. She kept her arms up ready to catch any slippage of the sling for a while even though it seemed secure. She tried to remember if she'd forgotten anything important. Had she made use of all she could? She wondered if Maylee would think she was doing a good job. She felt, like a Maylee inside her imagination was telling her so, that a good job was subjective and what another person would do in her situation was none of her business. This was a situation she was in. She'd deal with it.

I'd like to see the outside world.

She was a good way along the road when she realised she was too far away to see over the edge leading into the valley anymore. She hadn't even thought of it. The fact that she may be leaving the village forever hadn't even entered her head until then.

I'd like to live.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope this fulfills the request and makes you happy! Please don't be afraid to tell me if there are aspects you'd like changed. Also please feel free to offer constructive criticism - for example, I'm terribly heavy-handed when it comes to meanings and symbolism.


End file.
